Acquainted with the Night
by Princess of Mordor
Summary: New Chap. Hawthorne, A History or a Highly Biased..Snape is spying and has to contend with the new creepy DADA Alair Hawthorne, a ruthless vengeful Auror. She is NOT a Mary Sue--See A/N in Reviews. Plenty of guest appearances by Voldemort and the Malfoys.
1. Prologue: Wish You Were Here

1 Acquainted with the Night  
  
By Princess of Mordor  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Severus Snape or any of the characters associated with Harry Potter. They belong to the Goddess J.K. Rowling. "Wish You Were Here" belongs to Pink Floyd. The title is from a great Robert Frost poem…If you don't know it …read it.  
  
Author's Note: I have been reading fanfiction for months now and I finally got up the nerve to write a piece. For those of you who don't like gore there is a mandatory atrocity scene with a little cannibalism in the prologue. I don't think I have seen anyone write a song fic to this one before. I have read so many angst-ridden fanfics that I hope I am not taking anything from anyone and that this is original. No flames please. Read and Review. Thanks, Princess of Mordor.  
  
This is set post-GoF. It is late August, the summer before Harry's 5th year. Severus has managed to successfully return to Lord Voldemort and is spying for Dumbledore. Lord Voldemort had 'officially' returned during an attack on the ministry, on Harry's birthday July 31st (Mr. Riddle likes dramatic entrances ( ). The ministry is divided and Voldemort has now begun to reinstate his Regime of Terror. This is going to be a prologue for a longer Snapefic I plan to write about him and a new DADA professor. It sounds cliché …but it isn't. I refuse to produce one of those Mary Sues so do not fear.  
  
2  
  
3 Acquainted with the Night by Princess of Mordor  
  
4  
  
5 Prologue: Wish You Were Here  
  
So, so you think you can tell heaven from hell, blue skies from pain  
  
Albus' quiet condolences and sympathetic attentions nauseated him. Severus had not been to breakfast and was desperately wishing he had not come to lunch. The Headmaster offered him the last piece of lemon meringue pie; the pitying gesture was not lost on him. Albus never relinquished his favorite desert, even to Snape who liked the flavor equally. It was perhaps Albus only regularly selfish act. Severus' stomach was already about repel the meager amount of food he had managed to consume since last night.  
  
"I have no wish to deprive you of your simple pleasures, Headmaster. Keep your pie, I have no desire to taint my palate with a sugar infested concoction meant for pubescent teenagers and old men without teeth," Severus scathingly remarked and immediately regretted it.  
  
Can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail? A smile from a veil,  
  
Do you think you can tell?  
  
His sarcasm lacked its normal brutality, but it still could superficially mask his exhaustion and grief. He had not thought it would be possible to feel worse. He bit his tongue to stop from wondering aloud if he could ask the dementors to suck out his soul for him. Minerva did not appreciate humor regarding the Dark Arts, well neither did anyone at that table for that matter. Very few people on the light side had the demons and cynicism that allowed them to joke with equanimity about violent intricacies of the Arts, that constructed the lives of those who delved in that obscure and murky world.  
  
Albus did not react to Snape's remark, but instead cut the piece of pie in half and impudently put the larger section on Severus' plate. Albus merrily dug into his half, oblivious to Snape hiss of displeasure in the silence of the empty Great Hall. Summer brought solitude. Severus grudgingly lifted his fork to his thin, sour lips, attempting to eat a bite. He swallowed with difficulty. He felt the tension drain from his stiff upper body and the creases in his forehead soften. Snape realized it was laced with a relaxing potion. He was disgusted with his failure to note this deception. Some Potion's Master I am he thought contemptuously.  
  
"Severus, I expect that you will be at the staff meeting this afternoon. The last of the Defense candidates will be interviewing. I believe this one is the most promising. I do respect your opinion on the matter," Albus calmly suggested. "This one is on loan from the American ministry; they are taking great interest in Voldemort's return. He could become a serious threat to the American's national interests very quickly."  
  
"I believe you know my opinion on the Defense Against the Dark Arts position, Headmaster," said Snape as icily as he could under the constraints of the potion. He smirked at the collective winch from the other staff members at THE NAME. Severus had come to terms with his own mortality years ago.  
  
A wave of musk and incense drifted across the table. That insufferable flake Sybil Trelawney had inconveniently descended on the staff for dinner and chosen to sit next to Severus. She always insisted on sitting next to him when she chose to eat with the staff; the glare off her sequined robes blinded him with the unaccustomed light. She was taken with him, drawn to his 'dark' aura.  
  
"Severus, I sense a time of great trial in your future, but I foretell that true love will appear where you least expect it and will give you great joy and pleasure." Sybil raised her eyebrows suggestively as she spoke in a misty voice. She heaved her breast onto the table, narrowly missing her soup. She reminding him of Pansy Parkinson-- when the ignorant girl was in a five-mile radius of young Mister Malfoy.  
  
Minerva smirked and Albus' twinkling eyes gave Severus the urge to use a blinding potion. Severus assumed that Sybil thought she was being provocative. His wand hand itched. He wondered how angry Albus wound be if he cursed that frauding whore. The word Crucio flitted through his mind. Severus shuddered; he had heard that too many times in the last 24 hours.  
  
And did they get you trade your heroes for ghosts? Hot ashes for trees?  
  
Hot air for cool breeze? Cold comfort for change?  
  
The simpering staff could never really understand; their minds could never get past Avada Kedavra. There were things that were far more Unforgivable. Auror reports and imagined atrocities could never compare to witnessing the reality. Being part of the Horror. Only Minerva and Albus had ever seen true evil and what it could accomplish, the acts itself. Minerva had been deceived by His charms and deceptions in her youth. There were reasons she had never married. The others had lulled themselves into complacency in the past decade. Truth had become fairytales to them, metaphorical battles between good and evil, black and white. He knew the gray zone, the ambiguity, the unknown, the fear.  
  
And did you exchange a walk on part in the war for a lead-role in a cage?  
  
He heard the distant screams and sobs from the other part of that house get louder. Avery must be enjoying himself, Severus thought vacantly. He heard the thud of an axe and turned his head in time to feel a spray of blood hit his only visible skin, his eyelids. He opened them to see Macnair halving the man, and then tearing off limbs with his bare hands. Ligaments and muscles were ripped and hanging. The initial spurt of the arterial arteries, subsiding. The soft sound of gushing and dripping audible to his heightened senses. Blood covered Macnair's hands as he reached for part of the thigh to indulge in.  
  
He heard the sweeping of a cape behind him and a soft hiss of pleasure as those the long slender fingers, like those of a pianist, draped over his shoulder, curling like talons. Voldemort surveyed the scene like a Roman Emperor. His eyes were glowing and that horrible sound came from his thin, scaly lips. That reverberating, nightmarish laugh he had never been free from those 13 years. Severus forced himself to remain calm, to keep his eyes, cold, shrewd and calculating. He turned to Voldemort and managed to radiate the necessary emotions that were expected from him.  
  
He saw Lucius' gleeful face, free from its mask, twisted with sadistic joy. His face and hands dripping with the blood of the five-year old daughter of that Hufflepuff he had taught years ago, Doris Crockford. Hufflepuffs were naïve fools, easy targets, Severus thought bitterly. He could not say he hadn't tried to toughen them up to the realities of the world.  
  
The woman at the end of Snape's wand sobbed "Margie…"  
  
Yes, that was the girl's name. Crockford's eyes had begun to glaze-- being under the Cruciatus Curse and Alienaris hex for thirty minutes had that effect on you. Severus had mastered the art of bringing victims to the pain barrier, but never over. He was the best. Doris continued to sob her daughters name as she lay paralyzed, her nerves were nearly destroyed, her mind on the edge.  
  
Severus held up his wand and said those two words. It was a lazy, practiced movement. There are some things you never forget how to do. Pleased, Voldemort removed his hand from his shoulder and made a move to send up the Mark. THE wave hit him at that moment: The Power and the disgust. The darkness tempting, confusing him with its lures and traps.  
  
How I wish, How I wish you were here.  
  
His hands were dirty again, another name to his list. His face felt hot, his body like thousands of ants were crawling over him, snakes nesting in his hair. Albus had understood when he had returned this morning. It was necessary; Voldemort could not be suspicious, his position was already tenuous at best.  
  
  
  
We're just two lost souls, swimming in a fish bowl, year after year  
  
Unable to take the curious glances from that overzealous, dirt covered Sprout, Trelawney's lewd advances, and the undeserved forgiveness and admiration of Albus, Severus abruptly stood. He knocked over his water glass onto that simpering charlatan's lap and strode out of the Great Hall without so much as his normal curt nod. He fled to his sanctuary: the Dungeons. He knew he would be unable to escape himself this time, not after last night. So many layers coated him now, he could not see himself. He could not touch himself. Severus felt himself free falling once more and desperately wished someone would find him. In the back of his mind, a dead hope wished, flared up and died.  
  
Running over the same old ground. What have we found? The same old fears.  
  
Wish You Were Here.  
  
alienari : (pass) to lose one's mind 


	2. Chapter One: Enter Alair

1 Acquainted with the Night  
  
By Princess of Mordor  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Severus Snape or any of the characters associated with Harry Potter. They belong to the Goddess J.K. Rowling. The title is from a poem by Robert Frost.  
  
Author's Note: I thought I would get the first chapter up as quickly as possible. I haven't started the second one yet…it is written only in my mind. I realized some parts are kind of critical of Americans…Have no fear-- I am from the mid-west. I thought it was necessary for some of the characters to have stereotypes of the female lead. I don't intend to offend anyone. No flames please. Read and Review. I would love feedback because I am new at this. Thanks, Princess of Mordor.  
  
Here is the poem for those of you who don't have it.  
  
ACQUAINTED WITH THE NIGHT  
  
By Robert Frost  
  
I have been one acquainted with the night.  
  
I have walked out in rain—and back in rain.  
  
I have outwalked the furthest city light.  
  
I have looked down the saddest city lane.  
  
I have passed by the watchman on his beat  
  
And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.  
  
I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet  
  
When far away an interrupted cry  
  
Came over houses from another street,  
  
But not to call me back or say goodbye;  
  
And further still at an unearthly height  
  
One luminary clock against the sky  
  
Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.  
  
I have been one acquainted with the night.  
  
  
  
Chapter One: Enter Alair  
  
August 20, 1995  
  
Albus Dumbledore stood in the front hall of Hogwarts patiently conversing in German with the famous 1105 painting of Gunter the Violent playing Stichstock. He was waiting for the final candidate for the Defense position and he desperately hoped this one would be qualified. In these dark times it was crucial that Hogwarts have a Professor that was capable of training the students here in all the forms of Defense. Albus now found himself in a worse position than when he than agreed to hire Gilderoy Lockhart three years ago. The few candidates that were qualified were needed for other services to the Order. It was less than two weeks from the start of the term and he had no one he could entrust with the position. He sincerely hoped that he would not have to teach the course himself. His mustache twitched. He wondered how angry that would make Severus. The feeling of amusement was short-lived as he thought of Severus with an immense feeling of guilt. He had sent Severus back into that darkness.  
  
He felt the letter in his pocket he had received from his friend in the United States. He had written Eric Hoffenbach, the director of Espionage and Intelligence (ES/I) last week in a fit of desperation. ES/I was one of the most effective, albeit notorious, branches of International Intelligence Organization (2IO); and Albus knew that Eric would willing to help him as he owed Albus a favor. Albus pulled it out and reread it to reassure himself.  
  
Halfway through he was startled to hear a loud knock on the front entrance doors. He smiled, only strangers knocked on the doors of Hogwarts. He wondered what she would be like; the Hawthorne's were one of the most respected wizarding families in America and she was said to be the last of them. They had a reputation for being extremely clever at business and controlled one of the largest fortunes in the wizarding world. They were philanthropic, perhaps to amend for their involvement in politics that stemmed from the nation's colonial beginnings. He frowned thinking of the old black mark on the Hawthorne name. They had been instrumental in the death, persecution, and imprisonment of a number of muggle-born witches during the famous trials in Salem in the 1690s. In early Colonial New England wizards and witches, many muggle-born, had escaped to the colonies to avoid persecution in England. There they had masqueraded as muggles. The Hawthorne family had used their position of authority in the Puritan church and judicial system of early Massachusetts to kill innocent muggles and muggle-borns. That was several centuries ago and the family's integrity now spoke for itself. He was a little surprised however that a Hawthorne had become an Auror. Hawthornes made wizarding policies, not enforced them. He had never met the candidate's parents but had been well acquainted with the elder Hawthornes before they had died a number of years ago. William Hawthorne had been an American Ambassador to the Ministry for a number of years before and during the second great Wizarding War. Such a lovely couple that had so wanted to have children he recollected; well it appears that they did have a son. Yes, the whole family was very upstanding, although as little odd. Wasn't there that one eccentric who posed as a muggle writer in the nineteenth century…what was his name? Nicholas? Nathaniel...that was it.  
  
He opened the door to find himself staring into the eyes of the new candidate and he felt a feeling of dread go through him. He knew those eyes from somewhere, they were not Hawthorne eyes – what had Eric sent him?  
  
"Miss Hawthorne, I presume," Albus said a little colder than he had intended, the twinkle gone from his eyes.  
  
The stoic woman in front of him was nearly as tall as he was. She was slender and pale with high cheekbones. He eyes were ice blue, cold and calculating as she assessed the man in front of her. Her golden blond hair was long and streaked with auburn highlights. It was Alexandra's hair Albus thought idly. She had angelic beauty; there was no question about it, but it lacked warmth much like a winter moonlit night.  
  
Alair Hawthorne looked at the man she assumed was Albus Dumbledore with reservations. She had heard many things about him. Questionable sanity. A force to be reckoned with. A mind that was unsurpassed in the Wizarding world. A diplomatic and liberal man. He was all of these things she immediately decided rather shrewdly. She nearly frowned at the cold reception, but then decided that after the wizards he had hired in the past for DADA, he a right to be only polite and highly suspicious. Perhaps I should turn on the charm and put him at ease. There is no need for him to look at me like he wanted to disarm me right here in the front entrance, Alair thought lazily.  
  
Suddenly her face changed and it was if she had ordered the sun to come into the front hall. Albus realized with a start that she had transformed. She smiled and held out her pale hands tipped with rather long fingers graciously. Her eyes shifted from ice to a warm sky blue. "Call me Alair, Please. You Brits are too formal." Her eyes danced merrily.  
  
Albus immediately felt guilty at the cold reception he had given her and his countenance returned to normal. Of course she might be a little cold at first, until she had summed up the situation. She no longer reminded him of winter. "My dear, Please come in. I am eager to see what Mr. Hoffenbach has sent here. I hope you don't mind facing a minor inquisition by me and the rest of the staff."  
  
She laughed "Don't worry, I can assure you I have faced worse. Eric has told me a substantial amount about the castle and the staff. I am eager to discover if the stories he told are true." With that comment, she met his merrily twinkling eyes with sparkling orbs of her own.  
  
  
  
Albus held out her arm and escorted her to his office through the labyrinth of halls. "Lemon Drop," he offered with his free hand.  
  
Alair grinned like an eleven year old who had just discovered her grandfather had hidden candy for her. "How can I refuse my favorites?"  
  
  
  
Alair Hawthorne sat in the hot seat looking at the people surrounding her. Eric had told her about her predecessors and the other candidates who were dismally under qualified. She could imagine their skepticism, most of which stemmed from her apparent youth, she thought slightly annoyed. Age meant nothing. They should be much more interested in discovering where here loyalties lay, particularly after that Death Eater on staff disaster of last year.  
  
The staff seemed like an oddball collection of nutcases and weirdos. Not unlike her own professors from school. She sardonically wondered if it was the same at every academic institution. Alair assumed that brilliant outcasts of society had to go somewhere. In her experience they either ended up Dark or teaching the "youth of today." She bit her lip to refrain from laughing aloud. She remembered how relieved Eric had been when she had agreed to become an Auror. He was the father of two of her best friends, hell he was practically her father since the accident that had killed her parents. He had put it to her bluntly after 2 years of training. "Alair, I was worried about you, you could have gone either way…" He had shuddered at the time – imagining having to go up against an Alair deprived of values…and the Brits are always whining about their problems. Well, she was brilliant and eccentric, Alair thought a little arrogantly. This maybe was the place for her. Perhaps I should turn on the charm, she thought as she looked around the room at her interrogators.  
  
Minerva McGonagall was about sixty-five or seventy she guessed. A very attractive woman, but she masked it with a severe bun, glasses that did not suit her face, and unflattering robes. There was the cliché spinster at every institution Alair thought. Alair knew, in the way she knew things about people, that this woman had a very good heart, but was incredible strict to hide it. She was afraid of getting hurt. Alair mentally smirked. Who put a broom up her ass? McGonagall looked like a woman who had been royally screwed over in love and had thrown herself into Academics. McGonagall was currently doing an eerie impression of her own History of Magic Professor, as she looked Alair up and down, fighting the urge to tisk. Alair wondered how much these people knew about her. Obviously not much or they would either be showing her to her rooms or cowering in fear on the other side of the room.  
  
Professor Sprout, what kind of name is that? The woman was dressed in a floral, muggle dress that was covered in a patchwork of dirt. She had a large leaf in her hair and had a stick to hold back her honey brown hair. Alair would have bet she taught Herbology, even without the clothes. The wizarding world was notorious for its names that could, in a few syllables, explain the character, personality, and profession of its owner. It was laughable at best. Thank God her parents had not given her a riddle for a name.  
  
Professor Filius Flitwick seemed like a very nice man. Alair imagined that people often underestimated his power because of his short stature and genial nature, but she knew better. She imagined that he was quick and effective with his wand. Professor Sabrina Sinistra looked exhausted and appeared to have very little interest in the proceedings. She was grasping a cup of coffee with reverence and appeared to have been up all night with absolutely no desire to be here. What had the Headmaster said when they had been introduced? Ah yes, Astronomy.  
  
The Headmaster apologized --several members of the staff were on vacation or performing various tasks for him to get ready for the new year. She wondered what the first question would be, now that the necessary introductions were made. Minerva McGonagall opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a slippery voice by the door.  
  
"Exactly how old are you?" It was an almost accusatory tone.  
  
"I am twenty-two," Alair replied completely unphased.  
  
  
  
"Ah, Severus, how kind of you to join us. Miss Hawthorne, this is Professor Severus Snape, our Potion's Master." Albus said obviously amused by the scowl plastered on the tall man's face.  
  
Alair stood up, her tailored ice-blue summer robes, swirled at her feet in a rather dramatic fashion as she held out her hand to the tall, dark man. Alair raised one eyebrow. He was very attractive in a rather dark and gruesome way. She decided it was his aristocratic features. He looked rather built under his robes, too. He was exactly as she had imagined the ex-Death Eater to look, maybe a tad better looking. Ok, a lot better looking. She had read his file and rather curious about him. Hmmm, this might be an interesting year.  
  
Alair, however, was not what Severus expected. He had been able to tell she was very young from his angle at the entrance of Albus' office, but he was unprepared for…he hadn't noticed her …As she moved and made eye contact with him, he felt a feeling in the pit of his stomach… It must be the remains of his activities last night. He dismissed her immediately, refusing to continue eye contact. He sneered at her hand, but grudgingly shook it under the watchful eyes of Albus. Albus was giving him a curious look. Her handshake was brisk and her skin was soft. Severus immediately wondered what idiot American the 2IO had sent. None of them were that bright and with her beauty she probably barely knew how to point her wand.  
  
Shut up. No, she wasn't beautiful; she was showy in a Gryffindor way.  
  
That isn't true and you know it. Severus sighed and ignored the dueling voices in his head.  
  
He shuddered at the thought of another Gilderoy Lockhart teaching here, sitting next to him at meals, and losing the position once again to an incompetent, wand-waving freak. Hawthorne…he knew that name from somewhere. No matter. Severus had already decided that he would ensure she would never spend more time than this interview at Hogwarts. He took his seat in the uncomfortable, armchair that was always left for him during these meetings.  
  
Minerva was frowning even more now that she knew this girl's age, but decided to at least pretend she was giving this obviously inexperienced girl the benefit of the doubt.  
  
"I received your file only a few hours ago and have not had the chance to read it, Miss Hawthorne. I only know what Eric has told me. Please tell the rest of the staff about yourself, your position at 2IO, and your academic history. Then they will ask you questions. " Dumbledore intervened before Severus could speak again.  
  
Alair smiled easily; seemingly unaware of the scrutiny she was receiving. She phrased her speech carefully. "I attended the Salem Institute of Socerery and graduated as the class Valedictorian at age seventeen. I excelled at every subject: Defense, Potions, and Transfiguration were my primary areas of interest. I know over 2,000 curses and counter curses. I have been National Dueling Champion for the last eight years running, since I first entered the competition at 14. My Senior Honors project was entitled The Dark Arts: Obscure Potions and Curses of the Fourteenth Century and their Effect on Modern Defense. I won the Ivan L. Niftoloft Prize for that research. I received the International Medal of Magical Merit at graduation." (A/N This is the award that Tom Riddle had in the trophy room in CoS. It is a big deal and the International magic community gives only two out each century.) The staff collectively raised their eyebrows. Severus' scowl deepened.  
  
"I have written a number of articles which have appeared in Transfiguration Today, Periodical Potions, and Practical Curses. I have some with me if you would like to take a look." Alair passed around several issues of the academic journals.  
  
Severus silently groaned. Now he remembered where he had heard her name. Just last month he had been raving to Madame Potente while purchasing potion ingredients from her in Hogsmeade about a new article in Periodical Potions. The article had been brilliant and was by an American named...Alair Hawthorne. Damnit, obviously this would be harder than he thought.  
  
"One week after graduation I began to train to be an Auror at the International Intelligence Organization, under the mentorship of Eric Hoffenbach. After I finished my training I worked in the American Domestic Law Enforcement Division for one year. I transferred two years ago and I have been working in ES/I since then."  
  
  
  
"ES/I?" Minerva interjected.  
  
"Espionage and Intelligence." Severus visually brightened; maybe his job would not be so hard after all.  
  
"What does that mean? What did you do?" Sprout asked naively. Severus' mouth had turned up to what almost could be considered a smile, although it wasn't a very nice one.  
  
"What I did? That is primarily classified information. I ensured American interests both home and abroad and gathered information about various rebel international political groups and foreign governments."  
  
Only Severus and Albus did not have a blank, confused look on their faces. God, do I have to spell it out she wondered. "Basically it is a nice way of saying I was a spy."  
  
Alair visibly smirked at their reactions. "I am not at liberty to speak of most of my experiences as an Auror. As you can understand they are confidential in nature and I would be compromising the security of 2IO and the United States if I elaborated. I can say that even though I am 'only 22' I am the top hit-witch and Auror in the Organization, and indeed in the U.S. as a whole."  
  
  
  
Minerva hesitantly asked, "Is it true that American Aurors have…what is that American saying… 'A License to Kill,' that they have diplomatic immunity in allied nations, and can use the Unforgivable Curses if they feel it is necessary for the sake of an assignment…"  
  
The Professors looked alarmed and uneasy. Severus turned to Hawthorne with a new interest. He was looking at her with a cold and calculating stare. He would not have to do anything, he thought almost gleefully. She is digging her own grave.  
  
"You do not become the top-hit witch by casting disarming charms." She smirked, unbothered by the ripple she caused through the staff. "I could conceal what my job has entailed and what I have done during my career, but I abhor lying -- without a good cause." She smiled and winked at the staff, calming them from imagining the worst. "Although I am thinking about writing a book about my experiences. The works of Gilderoy Lockhart have really inspired me. The man is so utterly brilliant." She stated with a rather wicked smile.  
  
The tension in the room left with a wave of laughter and snickering. Albus looked completely blasé by the proceedings, although he was secretly uneasy. He had asked Eric for someone who was academically oriented, but he had no idea this is what he would get. Everything she had said had indicated she was intelligent. Eric had said she was brilliant and there was currently no question of that. He knew about 2IO policies and while he often disapproved of them, he felt it was not necessary to dwell on. She would be a very valuable security assest to Hogwarts. He was much more interested in what he knew she could teach the students if she came to Hogwarts.  
  
"I asked for a transfer from ES/I two weeks ago, for personal reasons, and Eric suggested last week that I take a year off and see if I can come here to teach. I told him I would come to Hogwarts for an interview and consider his proposal. I am interested in the fundamentals of education. While I have not been trained for this particular career, I believe that I have the educational and academic background and knowledge to make an excellent candidate for this position. I must admit I have a personal interest in taking this job. I want to take a break from the demands of being an Auror and I am looking to find another career path. I thought a job at Hogwarts would keep me in the field of Defense, but let me reassess my life. It is either this or law school and I would much rather come here. I already have horns, I do not need matching cloven hooves." Flitwick giggled. Alair smiled and the staff mirrored the infectious enthusiasm that she spoke with. Alair's merry eyes and good-natured appearance put the staff at ease. She had a natural charm and wit about her that made her very likable.  
  
Only Severus was not swayed, in fact he looked furious. Here was a woman who came into Albus Dumbledore's office, announced to the staff she was as brilliant and ruthless as a young Tom Riddle, used highly questionable tactics as an Auror upholding the light, basically said she had used dark magic to kill dark wizards, and she wanted to teach at Hogwarts during a time when vigilance was more important than ever. She was going to get the position he had wanted for years, but he had been refused countless times because of his 'dark' practices of his youth. How could the staff possibly want her? She could hardly be trustworthy.  
  
"Thank you Ms. Hawthorne. Would you please excuse us while we discuss what we have learned during this very informative interview." Albus smiled reassuringly.  
  
Alair walked out of the room and a glided down the staircase. She heard Professor Snape's voice rise with anger. "…Questionable morality…she obviously uses Dark…Albus…more important than ever to be careful…untrustworthy…American."  
  
She heard several quieter voices calm him and then she heard the finality of Dumbledore's tones, although she could not hear what he said. Suddenly the door burst open and Severus Snape stalked past her infuriated. His robes billowing like a cape and he looked remarkably like a bat. Alair idly wondered how many of his students had the same thought. He refused to make eye contact with her as the door opened by the Gargoyle and he speed away.  
  
At the top of the stairs Dumbledore stood there with a welcoming smile and twinkling eyes and said "I hope you will be joining us for the year."  
  
Alair gave him a big smile and looked like a little kid. "How can I resist? I will send an owl immediately for my belongings."  
  
"I hope you don't mind being sorted, so we can see which staff rooms to place you in. Have you ever heard of the Sorting Hat?"  
  
Alair got a weird, blank look as she climbed the stairs and returned back into the office. "I know one person who went to Hogwarts. She told me about it. I have heard that the house system has a tendency to stereotype and judge people not on who they are, but from what house they are in. I am not sure I want to be sorted."  
  
The remaining staff looked at her with interest and reassured her they needed to sort her to place her in a set of rooms.  
  
"I was told that each house is unique and has produced fine wizards and witches." The staff smiled at the praise. "But I also heard there was a darker side, one of competition and judgmental behavior. While each house produces great friendships, houses often have a rather negative opinion of the others. Hufflepuffs are idiots, Ravenclaws are asocial bookworms, Gryffindors are hot-headed do-gooders, and Slytherins are all evil overlords in training."  
  
The staff looked a little miffed. Alair smiled kindly. " I don't mean to offend anyone, but that is what I heard. Don't worry I am capable of drawing my own conclusions about people."  
  
"Of course you are. We are aware as anyone what the positive and negative aspects of the house system are." Sinistra sleepily stated.  
  
Albus directed her to a chair and placed the sorting hat on her head.  
  
Before it settled on her head Alair spoke, "I wonder if I could trick it, that would be the ultimately mind-game victory don't you think."  
  
"I would not suggest trying, my dear." Albus replied. "The sorting hat cannot be hoodwinked."  
  
The hat sent her into darkness.  
  
"Mmmmm…I have only seen a few minds like this in all my years. A powerful witch definitely headed for greatness. You are brilliant and have a sharp sense of humor. No question of that. An excellent Ravenclaw."  
  
Alair decided this hat was definitely smarter than it looked.  
  
"You are loyal to your close friends, but you are too calculating in your friendships with others…a powerful sense of self-interest. Hufflepuff is all wrong for you. As for Gryffindor…you are brave and have a noble sense of right and wrong, but you do not always follow your purer instincts."  
  
Alair rolled her eyes.  
  
"Ahhh…resourceful and ambitious, you are not easily deceived. You have a shrewd mind and are very proud of your abilities. Your arrogance might be your downfall…Oh you know you are arrogant, do you? You would be good in Ravenclaw, but there is really only one place for you. Although… I do not know if good or bad will come of it…SLYTHERIN!"  
  
The hat came off her head and the staff did not look particularly surprised. Minerva looked at her pitying.  
  
"Ah my dear, it looks like you will be staying in the Slytherin staff quarters. We only have one staff member from that house here right now." Albus said with a large, rather gleeful smile on his face.  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Severus Snape."  
  
The staff expectantly waited for a look of unrestrained horror, but instead Alair laughed, a beautiful wholesome sound like sleigh bells in winter. Then she smirked, her eyes dancing evilly, "Well, he might be disagreeable, but it is incredibly handsome in a dark Heathcliff kind of way."  
  
The staff gaped at her in shock, but Albus' grin just got bigger.  
  
Albus and Alair stood at a portrait of a tall, pale, dark-haired young man about her age with a serpent wrapped around his neck. The portrait and Alair looked at each other curiously.  
  
"That is Salazar Slytherin, your new house's founder."  
  
"Dragon Scales." The portrait swung open and Alair walked in. Albus was close behind her.  
  
"What the hell are you doing here?" came a frosty voice out of the darkness.  
  
  
  
A/N: Nathaniel Hawthorne actually was a descendent of one of the families responsible for the persecution of 'witches' during the Salem Witchcraft Trials. I think it was a judge. It has been a while since I studied him in school.  
  
Please Read and Review. Thank you. 


	3. Chapter Two: Creep

1 Acquainted with the Night  
  
By Princess of Mordor  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Severus Snape or any of the characters associated with Harry Potter. They belong to the Goddess J.K. Rowling. The title is from a poem by Robert Frost. The Song "Creep" is by Radiohead. (I think I got all the words right, I copied them down while listening to the song.)  
  
Summary: Alair settles in the dungeons. Getting to know some of Alair's personal demons. Chess with Albus.  
  
Author's Note: Thanks to J.M. Woo, ferguspork, and mione for being my first reviewers. I needed the encouragement. No flames please. Read and Review. I would love feedback because I am new at this. Thanks, Princess of Mordor.  
  
2 Chapter Two: Creep  
  
"What the hell are you doing here?" came a frosty voice out of the darkness.  
  
Albus smiled congenially as he snapped his fingers lighting the fire and the candles along the walls. "Severus, Miss Hawthorne has been sorted into Slytherin and will be sharing these quarters with you. I am sure that you will make her feel at home. Alair that door through there is your room. I believe your things have arrived. Feel free to do what you need to settle in. Oh, do you play chess by any chance?"  
  
"Yes, I do a little bit."  
  
"Excellent. Perhaps after dinner you can join me for a game and we can become better acquainted. Dinner is at seven in the Great Hall. Severus can show you where that is since he will be giving you the tour tomorrow and showing you to your office and classroom." Albus smiled, seemingly oblivious to the look of objection of Severus' face and the growing look of anger that was dawning on his features. Severus turned partially away.  
  
Albus nodded goodbye and shot a warning glance at Severus as he walked out the portrait hole. Severus was silent and the door swung shut and Alair got a chance to glance around the room.  
  
The common living space had three doors other than the portrait entrance. The room was beautiful and elegant. There was no doubt about that, but it was dark like a cave or lair. The light Albus had filled the room with did little to lighten the atmosphere. There were no windows but gray stone walls that where covered up with heavy medieval tapestries and paintings. Alair recalled that tapestries had been used on muggle medieval castles to keep heat in the drafty rooms. They seemed to being serving the same function in the bowels of this castle. The large painting over the fireplace was of the same man that guarded the room, only older, perhaps in his forties. He was harder somehow, with cold eyes. His portrait dominated the room. Even though it was just a painting it seemed to exude power throughout the room.  
  
The massive fireplace it hung over jutted out into the room and was surrounded by two large and rather comfortable looking armchairs in heavy dark green and silver brocade. The fireplace was black marble and carved with snakes so realistic that Alair wonder if she spoke to them they would tell her secrets. Their emerald eyes glinted in the firelight. A large couch sat directly in front with the same material only accented by lighter green velvet pillows. One of the walls was lined with a bookshelf filled with books on potions and the dark arts, some of which Alair knew were extremely obscure and difficult to find, some were illegal and banned by the International Confederation of Wizards. She knew because she owned them. The woodwork was dark varnished pine that encircled the room. There were two large wood desks in different corners, facing each other. The kind you imagine in a political leader's office, expansive and shinny. Severus' was immaculately tidy. The one on the right hand side, near the door Albus had indicated was hers, was empty. As she walked forward to confront Severus, the plush Oriental rug muffled her steps. It would be very easy to sneak up on someone here she thought.  
  
  
  
When you were here before, I couldn't look you in the eye.  
  
Just like an Angel, your skin makes me cry.  
  
  
  
Severus seemed to compose himself to the best of his ability and turned to the slender figure that was approaching him. He almost couldn't look her in the eye, still filled with the self-loathing and guilt that had covered him since he had put back on the robes of a Death Eater earlier in the summer. With his …other profession…he had loved the solitude of his rooms. He could come home from the death and metallic stench of blood and hide in his dungeon. Now Albus had taken away his sole place that those meddling misfits could not come. Albus had forced him to share his place with God knows what type of person. He supposed it was not Albus' fault she had to stay in Slytherin…just that blasted hat and that wench's for getting sorted here.  
  
Well, he thought, at least I can keep a close eye on the Defense teacher this year he thought nastily. Let here try to get away with anything this year and she would suffer for it. She seemed so innocent and pure – like an angel. That cascade of gold around her face and shoulders. Those heavenly sky eyes. Her slender, lithe form. Her skin was pale as fresh snow with just a touch of pale rose to accent her delicate face.  
  
Severus was not fooled by her appearance. Lucius Malfoy looked like an angel too, albeit a fallen one, and look what he really was. He steeled himself and looked into her eyes the cold hard, cruel stare that made first years cry, seventh years shrink back in fear, rendered speechless, and his fellow Death Eaters take a step away and move to put one hand on their wands. Yes, he still considering himself one of them, despite his work for Albus. Some stains do not come out.  
  
Alair did none of these three things. She stood there looking expectantly with a rather blank facial expression. She leaned against one of the two stone columns in the room and languidly crossed her arms. Her facial expression changed into a rather arrogant smirk, her eyes were inscrutable. She said nothing and did not remove her eyes from Severus.  
  
  
  
You float like a feather, in a beautiful World.  
  
  
  
Alair leaned against the column waiting for Severus to speak. His eyes were shooting a glare that a basilisk would be envious of. His dark, blue-black hair fell shadowing his face. She assumed he thought his was being intimidating. His normally full lips were thinned into a sneer. Alair did not flinch. She knew she was capable of a death glare far better than his, she thought rather amused. He glided towards her, almost floating, until he was incredible close. Alair was tall, but he was taller. The lighting made him seem to tower over her.  
  
His low voice was filled with hatred and slide over the words he said, but Alair thought it had a seductive quality to it. "You might have fooled the rest of the staff with your simpering smiles, charm, and supposed intelligence, but I am not so easily manipulated. I know what you are and I know what you do. You cannot hide behind your appearance good will, honesty, and youthful innocence. This is my dungeon" he continued menacingly, "and I do not want you here. Unfortunately, Albus does. If you step one foot out of line you will regret it. I will not hesitate to do anything in my power to remove you from this school."  
  
With each word he leaned closer, getting angrier at her apparent amusement at his words. She leaned forward. Her breath was hot against his neck, nearly distracting him from his task at hand.  
  
She laughed a low throaty laugh and hissed, "I know what you do, too. I hardly think I concealed my profession to the staff. Do not threaten me, you have no idea of what I am truly capable." She looked up at him, her eyes glinting and swirling in the dim light. They had shifted to the cold steel ice that had startled Albus earlier, but had something else in them thought Severus, with a faint and uneasy feeling of recognition. The light hit her face from below emphasizing the sharp angles, while shadowing the glowing halo of hair. Severus had to force himself from stepping away. Her entire body gave off fire and power. The type of power he had only felt from Voldemort and Albus in his life.  
  
She shifted again and laughed wholesomely. "Now that we seem to understand each other, why don't you show me around?"  
  
Severus was stunned. She was charismatic and charming. She could change in a second. He wondered which was her true personality and which had been summoned for his benefit. Severus stood resolute, refusing to cave in to her.  
  
"Professor Snape, I am going to be sharing this space with you for the rest of the academic year. I think it is in both of our best interests to try and get along. Lets start over. Hello, my name is Alair Hawthorne. I am the new Defense against the Dark Arts Professor. It's a pleasure to meet you." She held out her hand.  
  
Severus sneered and tried to cross his arms but his hand refused to cooperate. Stop it…what the hell are you doing. Maybe she cursed me. How the hell would she do that? His armed seemed to move without his control. As he shook her hand he felt his blood rush in his veins.  
  
"Hello, my name is Severus Snape. I am the Potions Master here, please call me Severus." I must be under the affects of Dark Magic. Perhaps she has been sent here by Voldemort to test my loyalty. Perhaps this is some foolish scheme of Albus' to make him have friends. Severus would not put bribing the sorting hat past him. Severus was convinced that Albus had tricked it into keeping Granger out of Ravenclaw and Weasel out of Hufflepuff. Severus' train of thought was disrupted as Alair raised an eyebrow and looked down at her hand. He was about to make a nasty comment about her not understanding him, when he looked down to see his hand still enveloping her soft long fingers. Severus dropped her hand like a hot coal and resumed is nasty demeanor.  
  
"The door to the left is my room and the one by the fireplace is to the Slytherin common room. Newts' tails is the password right now. The password changes about twice a week to both entrances." Severus led her too the door on the right. "This is your room, your password will be known only to me and Albus. Do you have any requests?"  
  
"How about Demiguise?" said Alair. The beast was found in the Far East and the pelts were used to make invisibility cloaks. (Fantastic Beasts, 9)  
  
"Do not expect me to be your friend. My rooms are mine and I do not want you near them. Do not touch my desk and please refrain from bothering me while I am working at my desk or at the end of the day. I do not want my routine bothered by a witch with a penchant for talking. I do not socialize."  
  
Alair rolled her eyes and turned back to the portrait giving it the new password. "Do not fear, Professor. I will not infringe upon your privacy…unless of course I have nothing better to do." With that she stepped into her rooms, without a second glance at the woman that guarded her rooms. The door swung shut.  
  
"Professor, I see your charms are still irresistible to young ladies." The portrait remarked sarcastically.  
  
"Shut up, Sabina." He stormed into his rooms to have a desperately needed drink.  
  
  
  
I wish I was special, so fucking special.  
  
But I'm a creep. I'm a riddle.  
  
What the hell am I doing here, I don't belong here.  
  
  
  
Alair breathed a sigh of relief as she leaned up against the back of the entrance to her room and closed her eyes. It was always a little nerve- racking for her to meet new people, despite her apparent ease. Relief spread through her. She was so glad to be away from home and her job. Eric had heard her pleas to leave 2IO. She was good, too good. Why the hell had he sent her here? Her teaching Defense?  
  
Everyone from home, colleagues and friends had laughed when she told them. "Quick-Draw the Curse Queen" teaching teenagers to not use the Dark Arts?" had been her best friend Eric's son, Rick Hoffenbach's, response amid chocking laughter. "Be careful not to start seeing-red kiddo, the Brits won't like that." His sister, Violet had been thrilled. Of course Vi always had been a mother-fucking do-gooder. She worked with baby unicorns and was happily married.  
  
Robert Goodman had said nothing and just smirked enigmatically. He only voiced his opinion later when he said goodbye. His voice still echoed in her mind. "You can never change who you are, despite being an Auror for your mother, despite teaching Defense, and despite your pathetic attempts to be part of the light. Go ahead to Britain and try your luck. You are like me and you can never change that."  
  
Yes, she was like Bobby. The Goodman's and the Hawthorne's were two of the oldest wizarding families in New England. Goodmans and Hawthornes nearly always married each other or people in their own circle, like many of the old families. Everyone was surprised when Alair's father Michael had married that British witch Alexandra Brandenbane, but then Michael was not really Hawthorne. He was a Hawthorne in name only, not by blood. Bobby and her were both too powerful for their age and experience. At Salem the two had been inseparable. Rick might have been her best friend, her conscience, but Bobby and her had a connection. Rick had called them "the Unholy Alliance." They were different than the others; she had felt it then and still did now. She had said they were born with dark souls.  
  
Perhaps she did not belong here. She would just infect the students with her disease. Her mother had always said 'never deny who you are, but be careful of what you become.' She had tried to be careful, but she often felt like she was free falling into darkness. She was so alone.  
  
  
  
I don't care if it hurts.  
  
I want to have control  
  
  
  
Alair was volatile; she had learned to mask her quick temper, but only to reveal a deeply cynical nature. She vaguely recalled her parents forcing her to take Anger Management Classes when she was 12. The disappointment and horror in her mother's eyes when they had found them in the backyard. Alair still meditated every night despite her initially disgust at being forced into some 'goddamn muggle, new-age bullshit."  
  
  
  
Eric had given up on her joining the program at 2IO 5 years ago -- until her parents had died. She accepted the day after she had given the eulogy at her parents' funeral. They had died a week after she had graduated in a horrible muggle boating accident in the Atlantic. Magic could not save you from everything. She had joined 2IO because her mother would have wanted it. Her mother was something of an eccentric and idealistic women; eternally optimistic of people's characters. Alair was convinced her mother did not realize what being an Auror really meant.  
  
Battling the darkness was fine on paper, but every Auror organization in the world used at least some dark means to accomplish lighter ends. Idealism was fine for those who did not fight the battles, politicians who hide behind professed morality and public opinion, and the public who feared those who were lured to the night. But the fight itself was far different then those naïve and impractical idiots thought, who sat on the sidelines and quaked in fear. When she had begun the training, Eric was surprised to say the least. Everyone was surprised to say the least. Bobby had just felt betrayed. Alair banished him from her thoughts, she did not need to think about him now.  
  
She wanted to have control over her life; she craved control. That was one of the reasons she had asked to transfer, she could not live anymore with the constant missions and the growing desire for power she felt with each promotion and curse she caste. A greater percentage of Aurors then governments wanted to admit turned dark. The training taught them the Dark Arts, but the will power to resist them was difficult to summon. Power came with many professions. The Hawthorne family was very influential in the wizarding government and Alair was proving to be no exception. She was bored by 2IO and was being lured by the political pressures of her position in wizarding society to study law and pursue politics. Hogwarts provided her with a chance away, a sanctuary, but maybe she didn't belong here, maybe she should leave. She was deceiving them all.  
  
Alair opened her eyes and looked around her room for the first time, trying to compose herself. She would have to leave for dinner in two hours. As she opened her eyes she saw a large bedroom with an old-fashioned bed with dark green velvet curtains hanging around it. She pushed her thoughts from her mind and smiled. She ran towards the bed and leapt up on it. She immediately sunk -- jumping was not an option. The bed was fluffy and warm with half a dozen pillows and several soft and heavy blankets. From her position on the bed she pushed back all the curtains and looked around the room. Her trunk was at the foot of her bed. She got up and unlocked it. It was an Auror's trunk with 7 compartments. She muttered a few words with her wand and her belongings began to unpack themselves. Dozens of robes and muggle clothing flew into the wardrobe, which magically expanded to fit everything. Alair loved clothes and was a firm believer in spending money if you have it – and she certainly did. Shoes followed. Her toiletries found their way to a vanity that was near the wardrobe, a large mirror, and through another door.  
  
Alair opened it to find a bathroom in white marble with dark green and silver accents. Alair thought it was a good thing she did like the color green, although perhaps not this much. The bathtub was huge and had a number of faucets she assumed produced different types of bubbles and a spa like atmosphere. Her personal books, a collection of muggle literature and magical tomes found their way to the high bookshelf. She kept some off the selves for her office. Alair unpacked a couple of framed photographs that she hung the walls and placed on the mantel of the fireplace, which was guarded by two armchairs with matching end tables.  
  
Then she remembered what the Headmaster had said…make yourself at home. Well she would. With one last disgusted look at the dark room, she pulled up her sleeves and waved her wand. The walls became a soft pale blue and the floor was covered with a silvery blue rug, leaving not one stone showing. The bed was redone in a complimenting dark blue with small silver stars that glittered on the velvet and silver cords to tie the curtains back to the dark oak frame. After the rest of the room and the bathroom received the same treatment she looked at the blank wall and turned it into an illusionary window. The window was open and let in a soft summer breeze and late afternoon sunlight. Alair looked outside a saw a gentle pastoral scene beyond the immediate garden. Much better. Formal elegance was fine for the main room, but she could not live in it.  
  
Alair decided to change out of her ice-blue robes and into something more comfortable. She pulled out a pair of dark blue flared jeans, the kind muggles her age wore back home. They were worn at the bottoms and a bit frayed. She added a pair of brown Birkenstock sandals and a burgundy tank top. She found a light sweater to wrap around her waist in case she was cold later. She reapplied some light makeup charms and put on her lucky necklace, an old Greek coin of Athena on a silver chain. She pulled her blond hair back into a ponytail. Hogwarts was a very traditional establishment. She giggled at the thought of the reactions her casual muggle outfit would cause. Well she was even dressed pretty low-key, for her. I wonder what they will think of some of my other outfits, Alair thought. I am 22; there is no point in dressing like I am in my 60s. She took one last look around the room and a deep breath. Tucking her wand into the waist of her jeans, she stepped out the portrait hole.  
  
  
  
Severus looked up from his whiskey with shock and disdain. She looked like she was 17, what the hell was she doing wearing muggle clothes. He could practically hear the frown of disapproval he knew must be coming from the portrait of Salazar over the mantel. She was not a Slytherin. She would be a disgrace to the house. Who the hell did she think she was? He had thought that she was from a line of prominent American wizards with that last name, but maybe he was wrong. Severus fought the urge to be intrigued. She was a dichotomy.  
  
"What do you think you are wearing?"  
  
"Something comfortable." Alair shrugged apparently immune to his disapproval. "So, are we going to get some dinner in the Great Hall or what?"  
  
Severus silently escorted her, secretly planning what he was going to say to Albus and looking forward to the faces of the staff when they saw her.  
  
  
  
I want a perfect body; I want a perfect soul.  
  
I want you to notice, when I am not around  
  
So fucking special, I wish I was special.  
  
  
  
Albus was losing; he was losing very badly. Alair had said she played a little bit of chess but he had not expected this. She had tricked him with her choice of words he grudgingly admitted. He had completely underestimated her abilities. He should of known she was not a normal opponent when she had come into his sitting room off his office with two boxes and asked if he played black or white. Albus preferred his white pieces; they trusted him more. She had waved her wand and the pieces stood up and marched to their squares, boots clicking the marble board with a harsh sound. They were black with blood red accents on their capes and armor. His pieces were terrified of them. Her army of chess pieces silently stood there, waiting for Alair's command, only occasionally offering suggestions in a deferential way. Their attitude reminded Albus of Severus' stories about Death Eater meetings with Voldemort.  
  
Alair systematically set up her moves, attacking only when each piece was in position. She sacrificed pieces with ease and managed to cheerfully chat with Albus while her pieces sadistically massacred his own. Their conversation discussed nothing personal only the politics of the Hogwarts staff, her courses, and the students.  
  
Albus hated to lose at chess, Minerva was the only person who had ever beaten him on a regular bases. Severus, who was an excellent player, had managed to do it twice. His other defeats were to a random assortment of people over the years, faculty, friends, and even a few students. Alair was effortlessly destroying him.  
  
"Checkmate." Alair said with a casual tone, as though she expected to win. Albus winced.  
  
"I am impressed my dear, where did you learn to play like that. I must admit I rarely lose at chess and never this badly."  
  
"It is an innate talent. Don't worry about losing to me. I have never lost at anything. I am a very competitive person. Besides Albus, losing is a healthy experience. It keeps you on your toes and will ultimately make you a better player."  
  
"That is an interesting chess set, where did you get it."  
  
"Oh, they are a little cruel, aren't they? My white set is much nicer, but these are much more fun. I got them as a gift from a school friend of mine, Bobby Goodman. They were made in Central Europe sometime in the 15th century, that is all we know. They were a birthday gift last year. Rather twisted aren't they?" Alair smiled rather gleefully.  
  
Albus raised his eyebrows in agreement and snapped his fingers. The board was cleared and a tea set appeared. "Would you care for some tea before you leave?"  
  
"Oh, yes that would be great."  
  
"I do not know if you are aware of this, but I knew your grandparents during William's ambassadorship to England."  
  
Alair's face snapped up with surprise and she smiled. "Really I didn't realize that. I bet you can tell me stories about them. My grandparents died while I was very young and I never really got to know them. My mother was estranged from her family so it was just my parents and me."  
  
"I would be happy to. I never met your father and didn't even realize that William and Anne had a child until earlier today. We lost contact after they left England in 1946."  
  
"Oh, my father was adopted by my grandparents. Grandma couldn't have children. Actually they adopted him in England right before they left England in 1946. He was still a baby at the time. They called him Michael. My parents died a couple years ago in a muggle boating accident."  
  
"Oh, do you know anything at all about who his parents were or about your mother's family?" Albus asked looking politely curious. Alair refrained from narrowing her eyes. She didn't buy it for one second. He was fishing for information. She could tell.  
  
"Nope, never really bothered really to ask." She shrugged and placed her empty cup on the board. She decided against saying her mother had attended Hogwarts. Here mother had refused to really discuss her past, but Alair remembered an old photo her mother had of her and a few friends from school, dressed in Quidditch robes. Her mother's chaser robes had been red.  
  
"Actually, there is something I want to talk to you about."  
  
  
  
But I am a creep. I am riddle.  
  
What the hell am I doing here, I don't belong here.  
  
She's running, she's running,  
  
She runs, runs, runs, runs.  
  
  
  
"I am going to be blunt, because I prefer to be straightforward. It is a lot less tiring. I didn't really think about what the defense position entailed until a few hours ago. I haven't really had the time since Eric offered it too me. It provides a break for me, so I took it. The work doesn't bother me and I know I would be a good teacher, but I feel that in some ways I really am not acceptable for the job. I don't belong here."  
  
"Why not?' Albus was a bit confused by this sudden frankness. It didn't seem to fit with his impression of her. His heart sunk a little. Although Alair was not what he had expected, she had great ideas for the class, albeit controversial, and was by far the best candidate he had seen for years. He was looking forward to the students' reactions to her classes.  
  
" I am not a nice person. I have done a lot of nasty things to get where I am. Unlike the rest of the insipidly naïve staff you know about 2IO. I know more about the Dark Arts than Defense and I do not think I am a particularly good role model. Maybe I am a bit more idealistic than I care to admit, but students need positive influences, particularly in times like these. I don't think I particularly fill those qualifications. While I would never declare allegiance to a man like Voldemort, I am part of the gray zone." Alair sat silent, calmly waiting for a response with the firelight flickering off her face.  
  
Albus was absolutely still and looked into her eyes. Piercing and penetrating them, he analyzed what he saw. She was being very sincere. Her eyes had an innocent quality, but deeper in them he saw something else – the same self-loathing he saw in Severus' eyes. She was quite borderline between light and dark, but he believed she would never follow Voldemort; she was far to independent to follow anyone's orders but her own. Albus looked at her and felt uneasy again and suddenly he knew. She had to stay here, she must stay here in England, at Hogwarts, she would be important in more ways then he knew right now. He mentally planned to go to his pensive after she left.  
  
"Alair, I understand your objections and respect your candor. I can't say that I personally approve of some of the methods you have used, but I believe you are a trustworthy person. Perhaps you are exactly what we need. These are not easy times and there will be many who are torn between two worlds, forced to make difficult choices that you have made yourself."  
  
"Certainly Headmaster, I just wanted to share with you what I was thinking. I feel better telling you my doubts and opinions." Alair smiled and moved for the door.  
  
"Oh, I will send the owls tomorrow to the students about the textbook and additional supplies."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
Whatever makes you happy, whatever you want  
  
So fucking special, I wish I was special.  
  
But I am creep. I am a riddle.  
  
What the hell am I doing here, I don't belong here  
  
I don't belong here.  
  
  
  
Alair went back towards the dungeons thoughtfully. The paintings whispered as she walked by. Maybe he was right; she could be more useful than she thought here. Her lips curled up in a twisted smile and she winked at Salazar as she said the password.  
  
A/N: Please Read and Review. I hope you liked this chapter I have been bogged down with schoolwork so I haven't had much time to work on it.  
  
Next chapter Alair will go to Diagon Alley with Severus, settle in, and go to the Welcoming Feast. The Dream team and Draco Malfoy will make an appearance, as well as Mr. Ollivander and Lucius Malfoy. 


	4. Chapter Three: Life with Voldemort or H...

1 Acquainted with the Night  
  
By Princess of Mordor  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Severus Snape or any of the characters associated with Harry Potter. They belong to the Goddess J.K. Rowling. The title is from a poem by Robert Frost.  
  
Author's Note: Thanks to Princess Evil, ferguspork, and Brina for reviewing.  
  
Please let me know what works and what doesn't. I might rework parts of Chapter Two: Creep. No flames please. Read and Review. I would love feedback because I am new at this. Thanks, Princess of Mordor.  
  
Chapter Three: Life with Voldemort or How to Disrupt Breakfast Conversations without really Trying  
  
* * * * * (Eight days later, 3:00 a.m. August 28th, 1995, Little Hangleton) * * * * *  
  
The room was dark and covered in a thick layer of dust. The decaying curtains barely clung to the rod that held them up. No light came through the holes in the frayed material. It was a moonless night -- thick with fog and the heavy late summer humidity. Though the window was open, no breeze filtered in the room. Despite the heat, the low red fire crackled in the fireplace, casting a ghastly flickering over the room. A dozen tall shapes made a semicircle in the room around the moldy oriental carpet. Next to the fireplace, a figure stood, a dark silhouette against the weak sputtering flame. A large green serpent lay still at his feet, eyes unblinking and tongue still. The dark relief was devoid of any color, except two gleaming red eyes, mirthless and knowing. A kneeling, broken figure bowed in front of the man with the gleaming eyes.  
  
"My Lord, I report that Dumbledore and the ministry are regrouping from the attack earlier this month. Despite that fool Fudge's injuries, he refuses to acknowledge your return and is threatening to remove that muggle- lover from the position of Headmaster. I have learned that a number of the old families, that resisted during your last reign, have begun to regroup and are calling for the removal of Fudge from office. Fudge bought the majority of shares last fall to The Daily Prophet and is controlling what is reported. The confusion is sending most of the country into panic and a significant minority have been emigrating to the continent. Dumbledore is foolishly trying to prevent this."  
  
  
  
Voldemort's eyes roved across the man at his feet and the rest of the Death Eaters. He opened his mouth bringing forth slippery sarcasm that caused more than one present to recoil.  
  
"My loyal servant tells me that most of the ministry escaped our attack earlier this month and is regrouping. I could have read about that in the foreign newspapers, Severus and the rest is common sense. It is a pity that you are not as adept at spying as you are at groveling for your life."  
  
The semicircle of black clocks and glittering eyes collectively chuckled at the stooping man.  
  
Lord Voldemort turned toward the fire with a thoughtful expression on his face, flicking his wand towards the man on the ground as almost an afterthought.  
  
"Crucio."  
  
As he held his wand on the writhing man, he continued to speak in his lazy, imperious manner. "I find it shocking that so many escaped at the ministry, when we so strategically planned this attack to announce my return. I am even more alarmed that you come to me with such limited information. I mercifully allowed you to live when you came to me begging to return to the fold. The scent of betrayal is once again in the air around you. Surely you would know better that test me. I thought you knew what happened to traitors."  
  
Voldemort removed the curse and Severus Snape lay gasping on the floor.  
  
  
  
"Perhaps your memory is not what it used to be…that is the consequence of too many curses I am told. I am not sure I understand this…. Perhaps one of my loyal Death Eaters could explain your behavior to me?"  
  
  
  
No one in the room spoke.  
  
"Such silence is unbecoming when Lord Voldemort asks a question. Maybe our Severus here could answer it for us."  
  
Each word was labored as the man slowly tried to rise to his knees. "My Lord, Dumbledore is approaching your rebirth in a strategically defensive manner, without Fudge's support there is little he can do. For months he has been pressing to have the dementors removed, but Fudge will not listen. Dumbledore has always kept his own counsel and reveals little to anyone."  
  
"That maybe true, Severus, but your job as a spy is to find out what the old man will not reveal. Surely I do not have to explain the intricacies of deception and artifice to you?"  
  
"No, My Lord. Please forgive me." The man's voice was forcible calm and penitent.  
  
"I do not forgive, Severus. I believe you already know that. I have merely found a use for you that grants you a stay of execution. A reprieve, but I am sure you realize that as well." The tall, dark man began to walk around Severus Snape's hunched body on the rug. He slowly neared the edge of the circle where the others stood. He stopped next to the man with the steel gray, glittering eyes.  
  
"This morning I read that the new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor is an American Auror. It was in all the papers. She has been at Hogwarts for a week and sorted into Slytherin. Why was I not told about this a week ago? After all, my door is always open to you Severus. You bring me hours of amusement. I want you to come to me with information, not always wait to be summoned. I hate knowing that a reporter at The Daily Prophet knows more about what happens at Hogwarts than I do. Crucio."  
  
After the screaming stopped, Snape struggled to speak once again. "I am sorry My Lord. I have been working on the potions you requested. They will be ready by tomorrow. I did not wish to contact you until they were completed. Dumbledore has been watching me closely since the raid on the Crockfords."  
  
"Good, you will meet Lucius tomorrow at the Leaky Cauldron and give them to him. I hope I can trust you both to be discrete and make the meeting look accidental. Tell me about the new Professor, Severus." Each time he hissed his name Snape forced himself not to shudder. "I am very fond of Hogwarts' Defense Professor, they frequently prove so useful."  
  
Snape had finally managed to rise and stand submissively in front of the Dark Lord. "Her name is Alair Hawthorne. I find her repugnant and obnoxious. She is arrogant and conceited about her abilities. While she appears to be very powerful, she is very young. Academically, she is brilliant. Unlike her predecessors, she appears to know quite a lot about her field. From what I understand she is by no means opposed to using the Arts to obtain what she wants, quite liberally I hear. However, she is quite odd for a Slytherin, My Lord. She has a sick appreciation for muggle music, clothing, and cars, but I do not underestimate her. She is quite calculating and enigmatic." Severus scowled with contempt.  
  
Voldemort laughed. "Severus, I want you to gain her trust. You say she is powerful; perhaps she can become another useful ally. If she is a Hawthorne, her resources must be great indeed." Lucius sneered at the name and narrowed his eyes. This did not go unnoticed by Voldemort. "Ah, Lucius here seams to have a personal dislike for the girl. Regardless, I am sick of looking at your incompetence right now. Lucius, stay with me. I wish to discuss your son. Oh and Severus…Crucio."  
  
Voldemort's high laugh was muffled by the dusty room and decaying curtains, but the blood of each of the masked men still froze.  
  
Two hundred miles away a lightening shaped scar burned and a 15-year-old boy sat up screaming in his bed in Ron Weasley's room.  
  
  
  
* * * * * * * * *  
  
Alair Hawthorne did not like waking up in the morning. She was something of a night owl and preferred prowling around exploring the castle than sleeping like normal wizards and witches. For the last week she had explored the castle during the hours of darkness and still did not know every corner of it. While the staff had been very pleasant and taken to her immediately, they were much older than her and busy preparing for the school year and helping Albus. From what she had seen, Albus Dumbledore was running a very extensive operation out of Hogwarts in his fight against Voldemort. As Alair drifted around the castle under a difficult invisibility charm few wizards could master, she had learned quite a lot that she knew she was not yet intended to be privy to – just yet.  
  
Each night she had played chess with every member of the staff and had quickly and soundly defeated them all. Only Minerva was a bit harder to slay. Severus would not yet meet her on the board. He had been noticeable absent. His hours were about as odd as her own. She had seen him several times leaving his laboratory in the dungeons and slink back to his rooms. While he tried to blend with the shadows, Alair did not miss him. Severus on the other hand had no idea he was being watch. Alair found all this amusing. He was either exhausted and distracted or her ability for subterfuge was much greater than an ex-Death Eater turned spy. Both of which were reasons for Severus to be more on his guard in these dark times. Severus appeared to be very cunning, but his edge seemed a bit softer than what Alair thought it should be. This knowledge just made Alair feel a combination of pity and contempt…neither of which made her respect him very much until a few hours ago.  
  
Knowing all this, Alair had not been surprised to find, during a prowl around the grounds an hour before sunrise, a shivering body at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.  
  
* * * *  
  
  
  
The night was hot and dark. The murky air was difficult to breathe. Alair was beginning to wish for the cold, stale air of the dungeons she was trying to escape from outside. Alair was finishing up her tour of the grounds and finally beginning to feel a bit sleepy when she heard a low groan. Gliding with the subtle dexterity of a snake through the grass, she crept up on the broken form that lay under one of the tall oaks at the edge of the forest. Her invisibility charm had worn off and she did not wish to cast another to reveal her presence. She slipped her wand out of her belt with her left hand.  
  
Suddenly the fallen creature leapt at her and threw her on her back. Alair looked up into a man wearing a Death Eater's mask. Under the influence of pain the man's senses were dulled and time drifted. All he knew was her. He felt her warm body pressed up against him, one hand against his chest. She was wearing an expression of mild surprise. However, she reacted faster then he realized.  
  
One glance was all Alair needed. His black eyes were dark and unfathomable. He froze when he felt her wand in his side and saw the ice blue eyes below him, equally blank. He saw her open her wet lips to curse him and he closed his eyes. Instead of Avada Kedavra he heard…. Mobilicorpus.  
  
Dusting herself off she began to escort Severus across the ground on the invisible stretcher. Alair looked down at him. "You are lucky I know your eyes Professor or the students would be without a Potion Master three days before classes begin. Next time try removing the uniform before you stumble back to Hogwarts. We wouldn't want the students to see you like this. It might damage your crediability," she finished sarcastically.  
  
Severus bit his lip to stop from moaning. His last bit of strength had been used to jump her. "Don't take me to the hospital wing. I need to see Albus."  
  
"Here drink this." His symptoms were rather obvious. Alair shoved a potion down the already weak man. He tried to refuse, but complied hoping it was poison. .  
  
"Nerve-restoring potion?" he remarked feebly as he began to feel better. "It tastes different. I did not make this."  
  
"I add mint to make it taste better. I make my own potions; I do not trust others to. No offense."  
  
"None taken," Severus remarked dryly. "Why, might I ask, do you carry it with you at four in the morning?"  
  
"I always carry a few useful potions. I like to be prepared. " Alair spoke with a voice hardened by years of experience.  
  
"May I ask what else you have?"  
  
"No. I don't like to reveal what I have under my robes to just anyone." Her voice had shifted to a seductive one filled with promises of sex and death and power.  
  
"Is that what you are doing up at this time of night? A rendezvous in Hogsmeade perhaps? Or maybe you were partaking in a plan of dark design."  
  
  
  
As they made their way up the front stairs of Hogwarts, Alair raised an eyebrow. Severus' spying was obviously not going well. She did not know him well enough to feel even remotely concerned, only curious. Perhaps he was not as clever as she thought he appeared to be if he could not even evade the Cruciatus Curse.  
  
"Unfortunately, neither. You, however, appear to be reveling in a 'plan of dark design.' Tell me Professor Snape, How does it feel to be failing at the one thing you are useful for?"  
  
"I suggest, Miss Hawthorne you remain silent." His voice was quite and menacing. "You know nothing about me or what I do."  
  
"You would be surprised how much I know." And how much I want to, she silently added.  
  
Alair had discovered that the file on Severus Snape that 2IO had provided her was priceless and she would have a lot to add to it by the end of this year.  
  
  
  
* * * * ** * *  
  
After Alair had deposited Severus into Albus' care she went downstairs to go to bed. Once she finally fell asleep she did not like waking up and was usually in a notoriously evil mood until she had two cups of coffee. Alair had already been at Hogwarts for eight days and was incredibly bored. Except for stumbling on Severus last night and that duel she won last week, Hogwarts was relatively quiet. She wanted to create controversy…but she was not quite sure how she would do it yet. She at least wanted to fuck with a few minds.  
  
Despite her lack of a plan she dressed to kill. She decided on black silky lightweight robes. They were rather tight and low cut with flowing medieval sleeves and a flared, almost train-like bottom. She left her blond hair long and charmed her lips blood red. Her thin lips twisted into a cruel smirk and she left the Slytherin Staff wing for breakfast.  
  
When Alair strolled into the Great Hall the next morning she knew three things when she looked up at the table where the rest of the staff was already seated. The first of which was she was incredibly hungry and there were plenty of eggs and bacon today.  
  
Secondly, Severus looked like he had fallen off a broom from 150 feet and was glaring at his cup of tea that he appeared to barely lift, nerves shattered. He was insane for not being in bed and she knew that there must be a damn good reason that he was up.  
  
The final thing she noticed was fresh meat. Next to Severus was a woman dressed like a peacock, wearing a rather dazed expression. Alair winced. The woman's use of color was a little too overpowering this early in the morning. Regardless, this could prove to be amusing.  
  
Alair sat down on the other side of Severus, in between him and Minerva. The staff smiled and said good morning. Alair smoothly poured a cup of coffee and added two spoonfuls of sugar and some cream and drained the whole cup before Professor Flitwick, who had just arrived, could climb onto his chair. Alair closed her eyes and sighed as the caffeine ran through her veins. She poured another cup and began to fill her plate. Alair saw the peacock woman eyeing her and she decided not to ask for an introduction but wait and see what would happen. Alair buttered her toast.  
  
During this entire display, Sybil Trelawney eyed the new Professor sitting next to Her Severus with complete and utter distaste and some horror. Of course Severus was not hers yet, per see, but he would be. She had seen it in her tea leaves everyday for the last 14 years since Severus had come to work here. Sybil was peeved. No one had told her the new Defense Professor was so young…or attractive or a WOMAN. They had just said the professor was an American Auror. Sybil narrowed her eyes and decided to strike. She had to claim what was hers before that child got any ideas. The girl looked harmless, rather pale and small in the dark robes and devoid of personality, consuming the coffee. She would be easy to dispose of.  
  
Sybil descended on Alair.  
  
"So you must be the new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. It is a good thing you did not arrive on September the first; I might have mistaken you for a student. Tell me child what is you name."  
  
"My name is Alair Hawthorne and, actually, I am not the new Defense Professor. I have been given the Divination position, you just haven't been told yet. I think the Headmaster assumed you would see it in your tea leaves."  
  
Minerva choked into her napkin. Albus looked amused and Sprout and Flitwick seemed oblivious to the proceeding. Severus who had been picking at a roll, trying to avoid eye contact with the fraud perked up, despite his aching muscles, fried nerves, self-pity, and dread at going to Diagon Alley in a few hours to meet Malfoy.  
  
Alair had made this proclamation with such seriousness that had the staff not known otherwise they would have believed it. Sybil stood up and moved her mouth like a fish. "Headmaster, what is the meaning of this?"  
  
"Do not fear Sybil, Alair is just teasing you. I have no intention of replacing you."  
  
Sybil narrowed her eyes and then rolled them back into her head. "My dear, I see great despair in your life. Your aura is shrouded in darkness and bereavement that follows your path. You will not last long at Hogwarts. I fear your death is approaching…well I hate to speak of such horrors to one so young." Her eyes were misty with grief.  
  
Alair laughed and tossed her hair. "My death? I would hate to die so young. Perhaps I should follow Lord Voldemort's example and pursue immortality."  
  
The table gasped. Even Dumbledore was driven to raising an eyebrow.  
  
Severus forgot his pain as he looked up at Alair. Her eyes sparkled maliciously over her coffee cup as she took a sip. From his angle, next to her, he could see a playful smile dancing around her lips. Her cheeks were flushed. His eyes rested on her lips and moved down her pale slender neck to the cleavage and the black robes he was just noticing. She bit her lip seductively and glanced at him out of the corner of her lashed eyes, knowingly.  
  
Severus knocked over his glass of pumpkin juice, as he swiftly turned away. Luckily it landed in Sybil's lap.  
  
Sybil shrieked breaking the tension at the table. Alair began to laugh uncontrollably to the disconcertion of everyone at the table. Her eyes lost their maliciousness and she smiled the charismatic smile that made everyone at the table laugh too.  
  
Sybil was not sure how to proceed, so she was momentarily silent. The blessing for all at the table was short lived.  
  
  
  
"Severus, you should apologize to Professor Trelawney for ruining those delightful robes." Alair's face was as innocent as a Hufflepuff's. "Why don't you take her to her room and help her change into a different set?"  
  
Sybil visibly brightened.  
  
Severus, whose disagreeable mood was heightened by the affects of last night and being caught checking-out Alair, lashed out. Pity, he was not in his best form. "I would sooner help Cornelius Fudge towel off after a shower."  
  
Sybil looked crush. Alair smirked.  
  
"Oh, Severus what a pity. I had no idea you weren't interested in women. I am desperately disappointed. I am sure this knowledge has made many women weep in despair. You know, I hear Sirius Black is single." Alair knew quite a bit about the escaped man. She had overheard a couple conversations concerning him since her arrival and knew about not only his innocence, but also his and Severus' animosity towards one another.  
  
Severus made a strange choking sound in the back of his throat.  
  
Alair used this opportunity to ask a question. "Headmaster, I would like to go to Diagon Alley today. I was wondering if anyone on the staff might have the time to spare to take me there while I run some errands."  
  
"Splendid. Severus is planning to go in one hour. You can go with him. I am sure he will be happy to show you around. I know you two had such a delightful time on your tour of the castle and the grounds."  
  
Minerva was unable to control her snicker. The "Tour Incident" was already famous amongst the staff. Severus and Alair had a rather monumental argument in the kitchens. It had turned into a rather vicious duel, which had sent three house elves to the hospital wing. Severus had been disarmed after two failed curse attempts and was still nursing his wounded pride. Albus was now making a point of the two of them getting along.  
  
Severus growled. His body was not yet recovered and he had no intention of turning his brief trip to Diagon Alley into a daylong excursion. He hardly wanted to see the woman who had helped him last night and was infuriating him this morning. He could still feel her body pressed under his, her eyes cold and unyielding. "I hardly think Miss Hawthorne wants my company while she goes shopping. "  
  
"Actually, that would be lovely. I need to buy some potion ingredients that will be difficult to find and I am sure Professor Snape would be able to direct me to out of the way apothecaries."  
  
Sybil stood up with a very sour facial expression and shot Alair a nasty glare.  
  
Alair ignored it.  
  
This infuriated Sybil, who resorted to childhood tactics that were unflattering on even leggy, platinum blonds like that pug-faced Parkinson. She summoned the wispy voice she usually reserved for Minerva. "I must go back up to my tower, the spirits are calling me. Alair child, let me give you advice. Beware a dark men -- he will be your death."  
  
"Thank you, Sybil. I appreciate your clairvoyant wisdom."  
  
Sybil left rather quickly thinking she should just wait in Severus' rooms seductively naked tonight. Severus just doesn't seem to be getting the point.  
  
Alair stood up. "Well thank you for a delightful breakfast. Severus, I will meet you in the front hall in an hour."  
  
Alair left the Great Hall with a flurry of whisper over her erratic behavior. She just smiled. It might prove to be an interesting day.  
  
  
  
Next chapter: Alair will finally go to Diagon Alley with Severus. The Dream team and Draco Malfoy will make an appearance, as well as Mr. Ollivander and Lucius Malfoy. The Welcoming Feast and Severus makes a alarming discovery about Alair.  
  
  
  
Author's Note: Thanks. Please Read and Review… PLEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAASEEEEEEE. 


	5. Chapter Four: Hawthorne, A History (or ...

1 Acquainted with the Night  
  
By Princess of Mordor  
  
This is a repost…I revised some aspects of this chapter. Please Read and Review.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Severus Snape or any of the characters associated with Harry Potter. They belong to the Goddess J.K. Rowling. The title is from a poem by Robert Frost. Author's Note: Thanks to Sev Rickman, naki, and Polgara. Also I got an encouraging and positive review from Lady Snape!!!!!!!!! I love her story When The Heart Turns Overs. If you haven't read it please do. Also, special thanks to my loyal advisors and occasional minions, my sister Julie and friend Nadia, for your advice.  
  
  
  
I realize I haven't updated for a while…I have been buried in research papers for my seminars. I thought I would update a little of what is in my mind. I had intended to include this in a much bigger chapter, but I thought I should post what I had. There is some foreshadowing in this chapter that will be important to the development of the plot later. I probably won't have a chance to write again until May 1st because of final papers, etc. Expect something around then.  
  
  
  
Summary: This chapter has a lot of Alair's family history that I had a lot of fun writing -- then it takes off with the beginning of a visit to the Leakey Caldron.  
  
  
  
Chapter Four: Hawthorne, A History (or A Highly Biased and Selective History of Hawthorne, Which Glosses Over the Secret and Buried Aspects of the Family.)  
  
Severus scowled as he struggled to stalk ahead of that blasted girl on the path towards Hogsmeade. Despite his powerful strides, he could not get her to submissively trail behind him out of breath. In fact she appeared to be nonplussed and able to maintain his rigorous pace without as much as getting a hair out of place. If anything she looked amused, as if she knew exactly what he was up to. It only made him angrier. He had enough of her insipid smirking and veiled insults at breakfast. His growing dislike of her would only make his job for Voldemort easier.  
  
She was unusually silent and Severus was thankful for it. His mind was too busy preparing himself to meet with Malfoy and he was struggling to find a way to lose her. His mind was still throbbing. He was beginning to wish he hadn't set this foolish pace; he was suffering from exhaustion and worry. He had to find a way to convince Voldemort of his loyalty. Perhaps he could find out something about this girl that was useful.  
  
Voldemort had given him a reprieve, but he needed to produce and quickly. Severus had been playing this game for years. Playing both sides against the middle was never easy. Alair might provide him with at least something interesting for Voldemort. Perhaps Lucius was acquainted with her family. This was certainly a possibility, Alair might be an American, but she was from a long line of wealthy, powerful purebloods. The only thing he knew was Lucius had been disgusted when he had heard her name last night. Severus groaned, there were countless possibilities. He questioned the intelligence of meeting Lucius so publicly; the Dark Lord must have a reason for it. Perhaps he wanted Severus to find out why Lucius disliked Alair. Slipping Lucius the potions discreetly would be difficult, but not impossible. Severus had a talent for mendacity, but Alair was a very inquisitive and probably would be interested in why he was talking to Malfoy.  
  
He realized that he could just ask her about herself, she appeared to be fairly forthright for a Slytherin, but he couldn't bring himself to spend any more time with her than necessary. It was one of the reasons he had done the potions for Voldemort in the evenings. She was a distraction and liability. The soft smell of her hair at breakfast when she had reached for the butter, her sharp wit and sadistic sense of humor. He still had a few fading curse marks on his stomach from her. He would never go to Poppy with those. She was good. Far better at dueling than any of the Death Eaters. She could cast a curse with a lazy speed faster than he could even place his wand in the right position. She was powerful, that alone would seal Voldemort's interest.  
  
  
  
Her presence annoyed him. He was at war right now with Voldemort and himself. He did not have the time to engage in games. The interest would subside in time, he told himself. It disgusted him; she was so much younger, full of life and vitality, but very shadowy. However, something was bothering him about the rather lengthy entry and he planned to discuss it with Albus when he returned this evening before he relinquished the information to Voldemort.  
  
  
  
* * * * * * Earlier that morning * * * * * *  
  
Severus quickly thumbed through the pages of Volume Four of The American Directory of Magical Families. He only had 45 minutes before he had to meet Miss Hawthorne and he despised a lack of punctuality. He hoped this would prove useful. Alair might become a liability with Voldemort's interest, but Albus seemed deaf to his concerns. Instead of removing her, Albus was allowing the Dark Lord to obtain highly confidential information about her. Albus was very underhanded in his methods and Severus was unclear of his mentor's current objectives. He had always found it surprising that the man had not been a Slytherin. A manipulative, sneaky old git. Severus was flabbergasted more people did not see through the ruthless bastards constant schemes, incessant half-truths, and sly comments. Of course, the majority of the wizarding populations were rabid idiots with no foresight and less astuteness. They were all overwhelmed by his generosity and kindness to notice that Albus never did anything without a reason and always got what he asked for. Severus felt a burst of guilt for criticizing the man who had given him a second chance, who had become his father figure.  
  
The directory only gave a limited amount of information. Primarily it gave brief details about living members of magical society and their ancestors that had the most important impact on the family's history, magical history, and society. It was continually updated magically and was extremely expensive to purchase and find.  
  
Most of the information was found in other books, but this resource was extremely helpful because the families mentioned had little or no say over what was mentioned. It was not useful because it only told what was common or government knowledge and did not reveal secrets. Most nations produced similar volumes. Hogwarts and the Ministry were the only owners in England at present with this particular source.  
  
Severus quickly copied the information onto a piece of parchment using a charm, planning to give it along with a copy of her application file to Voldemort. Albus had given him permission to. While he planned to supply Voldemort with information, it would not do to give too much. Luckily. he did not know too much about the girl yet. Severus was a firm believer that Knowledge is Power, particularly if they don't know as much about you, but he still planned to add information of his own. Maybe he could find out something about her today. Voldemort was a passionate about organization. He insisted on knowing everything about his potential followers or enemies, to look for their weaknesses. He required thorough reports, compiling information. He was very bureaucratic in that sense; he liked to leave nothing to chance. Severus' responsibility was to present this information to Voldemort for his study. He wondered what Alair would do if she knew about this. Probably curse him.  
  
Looking at his watch, he deduced from the revolving planets that he had 40 minutes until he needed to leave the library. Cursing himself for his curiosity, which should be able to wait for later, he looked down at the book before he placed it back on the shelf.  
  
Hawthorne, Alair Gwendolyn. Only child, born August 5, 1973 to Michael Thomas Hawthorne (1946-1990) and Alexandra Bradenbane Hawthorne (1951- 1990).  
  
  
  
* Severus started, the name Alexandra Bradenbane sounded vaguely familiar. He associated it with his youth, but he couldn't quite place it right now. Perhaps something with Hogwarts? Severus looked back at Alair's birth date, which he had just skimmed over. God, he was 15 years older than her.*  
  
  
  
Permanent Residence: The family estate, Herefordshire, is hidden north of Boston in Essex, Massachusetts. Initially built in 1665, Herefordshire is named after the Hawthorne family ancestral home in England, which was destroyed in 1658 during the Goblin Rebellions of the 17th century. Subsequent additions over the last 300 years have made the estate one of the most impressive on the North American continent. Unplotable and protected by several unique wards, it is a veritable fortress. It is rumored to have a hidden treasure of significant magical importance on its grounds, brought from England during the 17th century. The surviving Hawthorne is temporarily residing in Hogsmeade, Scotland.  
  
Occupation: Recently given the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Great Britain, 1995- 1996. Currently on a yearlong leave from the International Intelligence Organization (2I0): Worked as an Auror in Espionage and Intelligence from 1993-1995. Worked for the American Domestic Law Enforcement Division from 1992-1993. Trained at 2IO from 1990-1992 after graduation from Salem Institute of Sorcery. Since Michael T. Hawthorne's death in June of 1990, Alair Hawthorne has managed Wathenhorn Enterprises, the multi-national corporation with extensive interests and investments in over 45 countries in both the magical and wizarding communities. It has doubled its yearly earnings under her management.  
  
  
  
* Severus frowned…He couldn't believe that they put this sort of information in a public document. Shouldn't her role at 2IO be confidential? This was a security risk at best, but those Americans liked to create an imaginary front of honesty: the public's right to know and all that bullshit. Wathenhorn was known for its ruthless mergers and vulture-like business style. He had always thought of it as a very Slytherin business, Machiavellian. Corporations were The Princes of these modern times.*  
  
  
  
Academic History: Attended Salem Institute of Sorcery from September1982 until graduation as Class Valedictorian in June of 1990. Reputably the witch of the century, Alair Hawthorne excelled at every subject, but concentrated on Defense, Potions, and Transfiguration. During her forth year at Salem, she first became the National Dueling Champion and has held this title ever since.  
  
Her Senior Honors project was entitled The Dark Arts: Obscure Potions and Curses of the Fourteenth Century and their Effect on Modern Defense and won the Ivan L. Niftoloft Prize for Research. She received the rarely bestowed International Medal of Magical Merit at graduation, the first since 1947 to be awarded. While in school, Alair was Captain of the Dueling Team and Student Body President her final year. Alair Hawthorne is most widely remembered for her Captaincy of the infamous Black Team for 7 years. She became Captain of the Capture the Flag team in a notorious coup during her first year at Salem.  
  
  
  
* Severus had only a vague idea of what Capture the Flag was, most of which was from Broomstick Weekly which he read on the sly, knowing it would destroy his image. (A/N Get your minds out of the gutter.) He had been a keeper for Slytherin while at school. The magazine, though published in England, often profiled sports other than Quidditch. Though Quodpod was the primary sport played in America on a broomstick, (See Quidditch through the Ages) another sport was played in the schools scattered over the different regions. The wizarding community was substantially larger in North America and needed a number of schools to support it.  
  
From what Severus understood, American young wizards had adapted it from a muggle game. The object of the game was to capture your opponent's flag, by any means necessary. Students in the school who wished to play were divided into 8 teams; each team was called by a certain color that corresponded with their flag. Wizards and Witches flew around on Broomsticks and cursed each other trying to 'Disqualify' members of the opposing teams in their own school. The game incorporated strategy, dueling, cunning, and had a resemblance to a Muggle War Game. It got ruthlessly competitive and Severus supposed it was the closest thing to the House system that Salem had. Loyalty to one's team was paramount.  
  
Severus recalled reading an article profiling some of the top teams in U.S. a few years ago, the Black Team from Salem being one of them. He had remembered, because it had painfully reminded him of what Slytherin could have been, before it had been tainted by the specter of Voldemort. The members of the Black Team had seamed so likable and outgoing, but had a merciless string of victories that made them the unquestionable best in the school. Their tactics were often cruel, but always effective. He recalled that the Black Team's reputation was a result of the infamous Captain…well now that he had meet Alair this made sense.*  
  
  
  
Hawthorne has continued her academic excellence by doing substantial research. One of her most important articles about her work is "Powdered Root of Asphodel: A Common Magical Allergy with Uncommon Solutions," but two of her articles have caused substantial moral debates: "Resisting Veritaserum: Developing a Tolerance using Degenerative Potions and Preventive Elixirs" in Periodical Potions and "Assigning Blame and Appeasing the Public: Modern Wizarding Trials and the Misuse of Justice and Authority" in The History of Global Sorcery. Her articles can also be found in Transfiguration Today and Practical Curses.  
  
  
  
*Severus frowned. Shit, so far the stupid girl had yet to lie about anything. A part of him had been hoping she had, it would be easier to hate her. He had to get rid of her. He was beginning to become far to interested in it…He would love to talk to her about potions sometimes. She appeared to be quite knowledgeable. He wondered if she had created any potions or curses…that was the true test of magical genius.*  
  
  
  
Family History: The Hawthorne family name and bloodline can be traced to the infamous 1067 marriage of Lord Edgar the Reviled to Lady Katrina von Schlactenbach of the Germanic principality of Palatinate. (A/N I have no idea what Palatinate was like in the 11th century. I only know that by the 16th century the Count Palatine of this region was one of the electors of the Holy Roman Empire…Give me some artistic license.)  
  
This marriage gave Lord Edgar the Reviled the mercenary wizarding soldiers and the wealth to attempt an overthrow of the great sorcerer William the Conquer, who reigned over both the muggle and wizarding worlds during this period. Nearly successful, with massive support from the newly subjugated English population, he was betrayed by his most loyal advisor in 1067, one week after his marriage.  
  
  
  
His betrayer was his recently titled, illegitimate brother, Sir Edmund Hawthorne. Lord Edgar the Reviled was stripped of his title and exiled after the failed coup d' etat, only to be assassinated by an unknown source one year later. The new King William granted Sir Edmund the ancestral lands and title that had previously belonged to his brother and approved the marriage to Edmund's love and his late brother's wife Lady Katrina. Sir Edmund, though held in great regard as a preserver of order in England, was always held in suspicion for the murder of Lord Edgar the Reviled, but nothing could be proven. The couple had one surviving son, Lord Clive the Daft, which continued the Hawthorne bloodline. Lord Edmund Hawthorne is also well known for being the closest friend and loyal advisor of Salazar Slytherin.  
  
  
  
* Severus raised his eyebrows.*  
  
  
  
The family remained influential and powerful with such notable figures as Lord Ellery the Leery, Lady Purity the Unclean, and Geoffrey the Redundant. All attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the family held a Governors position for over 550 years, longer than any other family. The family was known for siblings never being sorted into the same house and gave successful wizards and witches to all four.  
  
However, the Goblin Rebellions of the 17th century devastated the family and destroyed the family lands in 1658. The sole survivor, 25 year-old Marwood Hawthorne, immigrated to the Massachusetts colony in 1660. Glad to escape England with a fresh start, he masqueraded as a muggle due to the small wizarding population and the suspicious religious community of hard- working Puritan dissidents.  
  
He invested his remaining fortune in the shipping industry. A wise investment, his funds grew as he became more involved in shipping corn, tar, timber, and fish from the colony. He married Prudence, the daughter of a local Essex minister Ephraim Froth, whose fire and brimstone sermons were famous and often printed on pamphlets in the region surrounding Boston. Many survive to this day. A revered member of the religious community for his goodness and piety, Ephraim Froth was in reality a wizard from London, exiled because of his involvement in the Dark Arts, which he did not give up until his death in 1703.  
  
The Hawthorne family is most notoriously remembered for its involvement in the Salem Witchcraft Trials in the early 1690s. Marwood Hawthorne became a judge in his township and elder of the local parish in the 1680s. He used this position to seek revenge on his business competitors and eventually began to eliminate a number of muggle-bornes that he felt were a danger to the small, but growing wizarding community in Colonial New England. Initially, he had them exiled for being religious dissidents to Rhode Island; but eventually he and his family became instrumental in the death, persecution, and imprisonment of a number of muggle-born witches and muggles during the trials. Hawthorne eventually became obsessed with maintaining the purity of wizarding blood in his old age. While this black mark still lingers on the family name, Hawthornes are now well known for their humanitarian spirit and liberal ideas concerning the political and judicial system.  
  
  
  
* Severus was extremely concerned. He wondered what Voldemort would do with this information, if he did not already know. While the book seems to have exonerated the Hawthornes, he knew that these old families often hid their ideas on purity of blood in the wizarding world when it wasn't popular. Particularly in a country such as America that tended to espouse idealistic viewpoints, that all Wizards are created equal. He bet most of the staff didn't know this. His lips curled up into a predatory smile.*  
  
  
  
In the last 300 years, the Hawthorne family has been a pillar of society producing a number of Senators and Congressmen, such as Senator Orval Hawthorne and Congresswoman Eldora Hawthorne. (A/N the American Wizarding Government is pretty much like the muggle one…easier to write that way.) In the 19th century the prolific, albeit moralistic, writer Nathaniel Hawthorne posed as a muggle and received notoriety in both worlds. Most recently William Hawthorne, the grandfather of the surviving Hawthorne, Alair, was the American Ambassador to the British Ministry from 1933-1946 during the precarious years of the Second Great Wizarding War.  
  
Alair Hawthorne's father Michael T. Hawthorne attended Salem Institute of Sorcery as well, graduating in 1965 and was married in 1971. He dabbled in politics, backing politicians and parties with his wealth and executing a series of rather ruthless corporate takeovers expanding Wathenhorn Enterprises, until his affluence stretched across both the wizarding and muggle worlds.  
  
Her mother, the philanthropic Alexandra B. Hawthorne was responsible for a series of fundraisers for magical maladies research. She also lobbied for the removal of Dementors from use in the judicial system, demanding the abolishment of the Kiss as a form of punishment. Both Alexandra and Michael Hawthorne died five years ago in a muggle boating accident with Senator Evan Goodman and his wife Lara. (See Vol 3, page 640) They died leaving Alair Hawthorne the sole heir of the family fortune. Alair Hawthorne has yet to ascend to the traditional family role in politics.  
  
(End of Entry)  
  
  
  
A part of Severus was disappointed that was all. The other half of him was completely disgusted. He hated these entries. They never told you interesting information that you wanted to know about people. The bit about Salazar Slytherin intrigued him and a number of other questions had been raised as well, but nothing concrete. He would have to sneak into her room and see if he could find out something more substantial about her character and interests.  
  
He was surprised about the lack of material mentioning her parents, facts and dates; normally the book went into more detail with families of this prominence, particularly about the previous generation. Maybe much of that information was not known. Her mother, for example, was scarcely mentioned. The part about the Dementors surprised him. It was a very unpopular view. It vaguely reminded him of Albus. Nothing about her life before her marriage was mentioned, not even where she attended school.  
  
Cynically, Severus had decided that her parents must have had nothing in common, they sounded very different…perhaps it was a marriage of convience, not of love. It was still very common in the old families, including his own. Severus did not flinch as he thought of his father. There were reasons why he was able to perform curses his first year that most seventh years would never learn. Regardless, it seldom provided either person with happiness, just an increased pocket book. Look at the Malfoys, Severus thought scornfully.  
  
Severus put the book back on the bookshelf and walked out of the library towards the entrance hall. He concealed the copy of the biography and the articles she had written as well in an inner pocket of his robes. In all this gave him a considerable amount to think about.  
  
* * * * * * ** * * * * * * (End of Flashback)  
  
Alair was trying to stifle her amusement at the man clad in black wool. It might have been the final days of summer, but it was hot. She was glad that her black robes were thin and charmed to keep her cool. His eyebrows were pinched together in a look of disdain as he speed toward the Three Broomsticks, but Alair could see through his crap. He was in pain. She supposed it wasn't very nice to laugh at another's misfortune, but she got sick pleasure from his discomfort. Alair had never been to the Three Broomsticks before. Hagrid had said the people there were always up for a game of chess or cards in the evening and the cool summer drinks couldn't be beat anywhere in Britain. She would have to stop by sometime. She loved a good drink after a long day. As she walked in she was hit with the smell of smoke, butterbeer, and fire-whiskey. It was a dark, but cosy room, filled with worn chairs and talkative people. Light that came in the window highlighted dust particles and the icy glasses. Alair smiled at the brassy, warm-hearted looking woman behind the bar as Severus nodded to her curtly.  
  
"We need to use the floo-network," he said  
  
Alair hated using floo powder, she wished she knew where Diagon Alley was so she could just visualize it and Apparate. She usually ended up on her ass in a pile of soot. At least she was wearing black robes. She threw the pinch into the fireplace and said "Diagon Alley."  
  
Alair had managed to maintain her dignity and not land in the fire. She stood up and Severus arrived a few seconds later. The bar was dark and gloomy. The furniture was much more worn than that of the Three Broomsticks. The clink of glasses and the noise from the streets was a relief to Alair who was sick of the silence of Hogwarts in the summer. The wizarding community in England was small and most people knew one another at least by sight. They looked at Alair with curiosity. Her eyes twinkled at the interest. Everyone who wasn't looking at her was eyeing Severus with suspicion, and among the youngest customers, unmasked hatred. A slippery voice, come from behind Severus.  
  
"Ahhh, Severus. So good of you to be punctual." The tall man with patrician features sneered at Alair. He spoke in a slow, condescending drawl. "Miss Hawthorne, what a pleasant surprise. England must be quite a change for you. You do not have your government and your allies to protect you. It will be much harder to hide from the law here."  
  
Alair smiled a knowing, cruel smile. She held out her hand. The man took it and mockingly bowed over it. "It doesn't matter what country I am in, I can still dupe you out of over half your fortune and get away with it. Would you like a repeat performance, Lucius?"  
  
  
  
  
  
To be continued.  
  
Coming soon: A conversation with Lucius. Ron, Hermione, and Harry meet Alair…tactlessness ensues. (Ron) Alair stops by at Mr. Ollivander's and gets a new pet named Ophelia. The Welcoming Feast and Severus makes a alarming discovery about a special talent of Alair's.  
  
Chapter 6 and 7: Alair makes mixed drinks to ease Severus' Angst. The First Day of classes brings some interesting lecture material for the 5th year Gryffindors and Slytherins. Alair overhears a staff room discussion and Draco Malfoy reveals a secret.  
  
Author's Note: Thanks. Please Read and Review… PLEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAASEEEEEEE. 


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